Chapter 2
Before Peter came back downstairs, I had already returned to the car.
He didn’t suspect a thing. Slid into the passenger seat and, like always, reached over to hold my hand.
The moment his fingers touched mine, I shuddered.
A wave of nausea hit me.
“Babe, I really love you, you know?” he slurred.
“Tomorrow’s the big day-we’re getting married! I swear I’m the luckiest guy in the world!”
His drunken affection sounded sweet on the surface, but all I could hear was their conversation echoing in
my head-that quiet, calculated intimacy in the hallway upstairs.
Just ambiguous enough.
Just restrained enough.
That’s how he could sit here now, acting like he had nothing to hide.
I kept my eyes on the road and drove us back to our house.
The entire ride, his phone buzzed nonstop.
At a red light, I stole a glance at the screen.
He quickly turned it face down and avoided my gaze.
“My advisor,” he said stiffly. “Boss stuff.”
His “boss” was his PhD supervisor-but I’d caught a glimpse of the pink avatar in the corner of the screen.
It was Luna.
[Peter, I wish we could just run away together…]
The moment we got home, he rushed to the bathroom and threw up.
Leaning against the doorframe afterward, he looked at me with a sheepish grin.
“I drank too much tonight, babe. Can you help me look up some research articles?”
“Oh, and there’s a spreadsheet on my desktop-mind filling it out for me too?”
I opened his laptop, but the spreadsheet had nothing to do with his field.
It was Luna’s.
On his desktop, his dissertation draft was also open.
I clicked it-almost like something guided my hand.
Chapter 2
The first version was complete.
The acknowledgments section was short. Just a few lines.
He thanked his advisor, thanked me, thanked a few friends.
It was all brief. Dismissive.
Except the last paragraph.
That was for her.
Thank you, Luna, for the late-night coffee and quiet comfort. You gave my research warmth and soul. Wishing my girl nothing but sunshine in the days ahead.
My girl…
Something heavy lodged in my chest. I felt like I was sinking.
How many secrets had Peter Williams been hiding from me?
